A New Era
by Cat Jenkins
Summary: Strauss is gone. The new Section Chief is meeting Hotch for the first time. She has an agenda. He'll never be the same.


"So you're meeting her today?" Rossi kept his voice low. Even if Erin Strauss had been a real piece of work, her departure from the Bureau didn't merit gossip. Not from those who'd known her best. Nor did he want to be the one to start up the rumor factory when it came to her replacement.

Hotch's answer was, likewise, discreetly meant for Rossi's ears alone. "Yeah. She asked me to come to her office…" He glanced at his watch. "…in twenty minutes."

"Well, at least you won't have too much time to get nervous."

Hotch gave his best friend a long-suffering look. "Too late." His stomach was already regretting the two cups of strong, black coffee that had comprised his breakfast.

After years of being subjected to Strauss' political machinations, he was conditioned to expect traps, tricks, taunts and undeserved punishments whenever called to the office of the Section Chief. He didn't have much hope that the new one would be any different. Feeling the need to gather himself together, and hating that it reminded him of getting into trouble and being called to the principal's office when he was younger, Hotch went into his office and closed the door.

All eyes in the bullpen tracked his progress. Sympathy was foremost in the team's expressions, but only a short distance behind was relief. At least Hotch was used to the abuse and infighting that might await him. He'd become adept at maintaining a stoic silence in the face of Strauss' onslaughts. He stood a better chance of survival than the rest of them, with the possible exception of Rossi, who didn't have to worry about upward mobility and had reveled in rubbing that in Strauss' face from time to time.

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Precisely eighteen minutes later, a wary Hotch emerged from his office. Keeping his head down, focusing on his feet as they took him to his possible doom, or maybe the start of a whole new gamut of strategies designed to oust him from his position, he didn't respond to the murmured 'good luck's and 'hang tough's as he passed his colleagues.

The hallways seemed longer than usual. The elevators slower. By the time he reached the Section Chief's door, Hotch's mouth was dry, his stomach twisting. _Man, she really did a number on me to instill this kind of reaction just from walking to her office._ He hated that he could intellectualize his feelings, but still couldn't separate himself from their debilitating effects.

He rapped on the doorframe, expression grim, eyes guarded.

"Come in." The woman was petite, brunette with scattered gray unapologetically visible in her short hair. Hotch estimated she was fifteen to twenty years his senior, making her Rossi's contemporary. She looked up and a professionally appropriate smile creased her slightly round face. Moving from behind her desk, hand extended, she approached the man hesitating in her doorway.

"Aaron Hotchner, nice to meet you." She gripped his hand firmly, pulling him in slightly when he seemed loathe to step past the threshold on his own. "I'm your new Section Chief, Elizabeth Morton." She motioned toward one of the chairs facing her desk. "Have a seat."

She watched Agent Hotchner sit down. He was stiff, alert. _My God. What have they done to this man? He's…__**afraid**__?...of me?_ She resumed her place behind her desk. When Hotch didn't seem to have anything on his mind other than keeping silent, she took a deep breath and plunged into her own plan with regard to this Unit Chief.

"I've been going over your records." She glanced up and thought she saw the faint glow of perspiration appearing on his top lip. "Apparently, you and Erin Strauss had quite a history. And not a congenial one at that."

Hotch swallowed. "Yes, Ma'am."

Morton narrowed her eyes at her visitor. _This is not the way I want things to go. Better do something to snap him out of whatever his expectations are before he either bolts for freedom, or vomits, or…does exactly what I'm here to prevent…_ She sighed and pushed the stack of reports…reports detailing all of Agent Hotchner's infractions and insubordination…aside. Folding her hands on her desktop, she leaned forward and caught Hotch's gaze, holding it with her own steady regard.

"I'll be frank with you, Agent. It's clear that Erin Strauss had a very definite agenda when it came to you. So do I. But mine's a little different." Something flickered in the depths of Hotchner's eyes. It reminded her of a prisoner knowing he was on the verge of hearing the verdict that would decide his fate. It was a look containing more dread than hope.

"Strauss wanted you out. You threatened her ambition. She was determined to move up, step by step, and she thought there was a chance you could leap over her and outdistance her. Rest assured, I am as determined to accomplish _my_ ambition, attain _my_ goal, as she was."

Hotch couldn't help the convulsive gulp. It was almost audible.

Morton raised her chin and scanned her Unit Chief, taking in every detail, learning what she could of the man with her own considerable profiling experience. "You're reaching a critical juncture in your career, Agent Hotchner." She stood and came around her desk once more. Leaning against it, she was only a few feet away from and looking down on this quiet man.

"As you know, burnout is one of the worst, most pervasive occupational hazards with our more seasoned agents. We lost Jason Gideon. We lost David Rossi, although he returned years later. We don't want to lose you." She watched something akin to disbelief slowly infuse Hotchner's face. "My goal, what I want to accomplish before I leave this post… however and whenever that may be…is to find a way to prevent agent burnout." She crossed her arms and looked Hotch up and down. "You're going to be my guinea pig."

"Ma'am?"

"Case schedule permitting, I want to meet with you once a week. I want to know what you need to make your work and your life easier and more productive. What do you need that you don't have? What do you _want_ that you don't have? And that pertains to your personal as well as professional life." Hotch's jaw had lost its tension. It was hanging just the slightest bit open. Finally, Morton smiled.

"I want you to make up a wish list. I'm not saying you'll get everything you want, but it'll give us a starting place to work from. It'll let administrators see where funding should be directed."

She straightened and extended her hand once more. "I'm going to see that you're undisturbed and have this next weekend entirely free. I'd like you to relax and let your mind roam over what would benefit you and your team. Nothing is off the table. If you need someone to do your laundry, I want to know. If you need time off for a team member, I want to know. If there's new technology you'd like to try, I want to know. Understand?"

Hotch nodded as he stood and shook her hand again.

As she saw him to the door, Morton softened her voice. "And I promise you two things, Agent Hotchner. First, I will always be honest with you. If you do something I believe is wrong, I'll speak to you about it before anyone else. You won't be blindsided with unexplained disciplinary actions. Second, I will always listen to you. No matter what you have to say. No matter if I agree or not. I will always hear you out." A chuckle bubbled up in her last words. "Even though, you don't seem to have much to say…yet."

She gave a gentle push to help the stunned agent out the door. "Now back to work. We'll have our first meeting this coming Monday. Have fun making your wish list."

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As Hotch returned to his office, he couldn't hide his shock. It concerned and baffled his teammates as he wandered past them in a kind of daze. Looks were exchanged. Shoulders were shrugged. Brows were furrowed.

But what was truly alarming was when the Unit Chief stopped on the catwalk in front of his office door, turned to survey his bullpen, and beamed forth a smile wider than anything anyone had ever seen within the BAU walls.


End file.
